


A Song Of Queit Weeping

by QueenNothing



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-21
Updated: 2013-09-21
Packaged: 2017-12-27 05:11:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/974817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenNothing/pseuds/QueenNothing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Saeunn runs away from the village she has lived in her whole life, hoping for friendship and better times. Her dreams squashed, she is recruited into the dark brotherhood. As Sheogorath becomes more interested, her life can easily descend into chaos. When she grows attached to her personal haunt, she will do everything in her power to restore him to his human form. Casual Sheogorath romance in the beginning, with Lucien becoming a deeper love later in the storyline. Updates weekly =]</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Song Of Queit Weeping

A song of quiet weeping

Chapter 1: I was born, I grew up

To say that I’m a troubled soul would be too few words and the wrong ones at that. I bet you are wondering how I came to the point where I am now, walking through snow as deep as my thighs with nothing but a worn travel sack and blood on my hands. I will tell you, but not right away. For my story has humble and broken beginnings, and there is no fixing what has never been whole. But, in order for you to understand this particular beginning, I will have to tell you of another, and of the ending that gave way to the path that now lies before me.

I was born in Skyrim, to a proud and noble family of nords. But unlike my siblings, there was always an eerie chill that entered the room before me and lingered after I left. The shadows would hug me as I walked by, contorting to hide my form and then settling back into their proper pattern as I passed. The witless called me cursed, but the educated called me blessed. 

The mage's guild thought I had an abundance of magicka, but while I had a talent for the craft my capacities were no higher than the standard. Through trial and tests, they finally found it. My true father was a black mage, one of the darkest there ever was. He was rumored to have been involved with a shadowy guild of assassins, if such a thing existed. It was also said that he was able to turn into smoke, and kill with a glance. Fear began to grow, soon my mother was targeted and stolen from my father while he was out slaying at night. 

Now fueled by burning rage, he devastated Skyrim until at last one brave soul stood against him. My mother did not want to hurt my father, for she loved him very much. However, she was a very talented mage and would not let him destroy their life together.

With kind words, she beseeched the cruel man to cease his destruction and madness. She pleaded for him to return to a life he had once sought to build, for she was now with his child. Overcome by grief, brave Gabriel Uriel Valsota wept at my mother's feet. But his damage to the great expanse of Skyrim could not be repaired, this my mother know. So she wept for him, for the loss of the family they had both longed for. As her tears fell, they rendered my father immobile. 

Slowly, he began to harden and become crystalline, turning into a statue of the man he once was. With great secrecy and even greater sorrow, my mother alone took him to the darkest depths of Labyrinthain. It was her goal to some day return, to restore the only man brave enough to capture her heart. That day never came.

As a child, I was only looked at with fear and speculation. And later, when my lineage was discovered, with hatred and discrimination. I tried to be a good citizen, mind the laws and listen to the guards, help where help was needed. But that wasn’t enough to wipe away the black mark of my birth, something over which I had no control or choice. So I was demoted from daughter of a thane to the town disgrace. My mother was beheaded before my very eyes, the only one who had ever cared. After that I was never the same. 

By day I would scrub floors and tolerate the abuse and cruelty handed out like altar wine at a shrine of Talos, by night I would cry and dream of the day I had the strength to venture out from this place. I would look up through the slots of the stall in the local stables that was my home and dream of a place better than that wretched town, where people would smile at me and tell me about their lives, and maybe even ask me about mine! How wonderful it would be to share a meal with passing travelers on the road and listen to their stories of adventure and courage.  
How naive and wrong I was.

It was a harsh winter day when I left, so cold nobody had the energy to bother with an urchin such as myself and I was free to spend my time as I pleased. Usually, I would practice magic and read books, but this day was different. I had rounded up what little possessions mattered, a small supply of food, and bound my feet in extra cloth to lend better protection against the elements of the road. With my enchanted battle axe and array of spells, I felt secure in the fact I would be able to defend myself. Everything was all too perfect, not a soul paying heed to my break for freedom. Or perhaps they wanted me to go? It mattered little.

It was only a few hours before I came across the first group of people outside the village, the first time I have met outsiders in my whole existence. They looked a little rough around the edges, but since they didn’t know me they must treat me kinder than the villagers. In my excitement and curiosity, I approached, waving a hand in peace.

“Hello fellow Nords. How does the road treat you?” I called out. The two men that had been talking in hushed whispers stopped and exchanged loaded glances. 

“It treats us well. What brings you so far out of town on a day like this?” they asked, brows lifted in curiosity.

“Well I’m just a vagabond just like you gentlemen, so I figured I’d make a little headway to the next town before it got dark.” I shrugged, hoping it wasn’t too obvious I wasn’t experienced or weathered. Again, the two men exchanged loaded glances before standing up and approaching me.

“Well Miss, it’s pretty obvious you aren’t of the vagrant variety so we’ll take it easy on you this time.” The first man said. The other swung around to my opposite side and snatched the sack off my shoulder.

“So let me tell you how this sort of thing goes. You let us take what we want, and we might let you live. Resist us, and…” he chuckled darkly for a second, “And even worse things will happen to you. Understand.”

“No. NO! I won’t let you just take my belongings like that!” I shouted, moving to snatch my pack back from them. The one that had just spoken rolled his eyes and pulled out a knife.

“Since you’re new to this, I’ll make an exception.” He grabbed my upper arm and made a deep gash with his knife. I struggled free and summoned a fire spell to defend myself but it was too late, the blue sky had started to fade to gray and an overwhelming blackness drove all other thoughts from my mind.

When I woke up again it was dark, and the men had left my sack in the middle of the road where people had picked through it as the day wore on and only the most worthless trinkets were left. Thank Sheogorath my mother’s protective silver and emerald amulet still hung around my neck. I reckoned it was the only thing that kept the poison from completely killing me. But what hurt the most was my heart, and the beginnings of the realization that the rest of Skyrim would be just like the village, cruel and uncaring. 

So, with a grim resolve, I decided to trek to the warm and fertile Cyrodiil in hopes of happiness and civility. But, even though I still have hope there will always be the shadow on my heart, the murky knowledge that there is no true happiness for someone like me, someone touched by darkness. No matter how hard I tried to be a good person, to be friendly and kind. I follow all the laws, the rules, and I never hurt any intelligent species intentionally. But people always run and shun when the sun starts to set and the shadows bend to kiss my flesh and feel the chill that always heralds my arrival. And it will always hang there like the snow from the trees, following me even now to the ever approaching border of Cyrodiil, dampening the dull glimmers of hope for something beyond loneliness. I could still be satisfied with misery if only I had company. With a shake of my head I try to tamp down the hope, to spare myself later heartache, and steel myself for the harshness that is yet to come.

But all the steel, and all the iron from a thousand forges could not prepare me for what happened next. It was after sunset and I was strolling close to the edge of the road, content with the smooth touch of the arcing shadows of the pines, tracing patterns across my skin that left spreading warmth that only I could feel. Eventually the sun began to sink just as a small stream came into view, winding beside the path for a few hundred feet before spilling into a small pond that shimmered and distorted the sunset in beautiful rippling patterns. It was the perfect place to stop and rest for the night, and it looked like there were no signs of habitation so that meant no more bandits to fear. With a small smile, I set about making a small camp.

“Hoy! Miss, what are you doing? The inn’s just a mile up the way.” A man called from the road, startling me and causing the potion I had been holding to go tumbling to the earth. He was standing in the full light of the moon, and appeared to be quite weathered. Mild shock crossed my mind, as I had never thought a man of his age would be able to travel the road, but I had also never been outside my small and humble settlement that lacked a place on even the most detailed map.

“Thank you, Sir, truly! You saved me a frosty night in the wilds!” I called back, picking up my sack and approaching him. As I got closer a stunning thing happened, the man’s old and weathered features seemed to dissipate and he took on the form of a handsome young nord, with hair so light it could be mistaken for snow and a proud jaw complimented by a strong and regal nose. 

“A master of Illusion I see.” I chuckled, waving a hand in front of my face and transforming my appearance into that of a young boy, much shorter than my actual height at that. This caused the man to return my laugh, casting a dispel charm with little shown effort.

“And you as well.” His smile was free and easy, and it took no effort to fall prey to his charms. However, after the earlier incident I was more aware than I might have been and kept a distance, trying to remain skeptical of every move he made and looking for intentions he might be trying to hide. From what I had overheard from other women in my village, men were even more deceptive than Sheogorath on his most mischievous day. Realizing that I missed the mad god, a note was made to collect some yarn, cabbage and cheese.

“Thank you for informing me of the Inn. I was afraid to look further, fearing that there would be no better place.” I gave him a shy smile, and made to part ways.

“Would you mind if I accompanied you to the inn? I had intended to stay the night there myself.” He spoke before I could completely turn away.

“Of course not. My name is Saeunn, by the way.” I said, turning to hide my blush while falling into step with his long strides.

“I am Halldor.” He said, then we lapsed into silence. When we finally made it to the in, I gave him a nod and made my way to the innkeeper, who greeted me with a smile.

“Good evening miss, what will it be for you today? We’ve got rooms, food, and mead!” she was a dark elf with unusually light skin and shocking blue eyes, indicating she was a mix of two or more of the races. Very striking, which made me feel a little plain in comparison. Still, I held no prejudices like some of my nord brethren and returned her smile with as much warmth and kindness as possible.

“How much for a quiet room towards the back of the house?” I inquired. She tapped her chin for a moment before producing a key and twirling it in her fingers.

“Private quarters will be twenty gold per night. Does that sound fair?” She asked in an upbeat tone, her good mood spilling over and causing a grin to spread across my face.

“More than, thanks!” I replied, exchanging the gold for the key. Thank goodness I had found that dead body after those bandits took all of my belongings, otherwise I would still be sitting with by back to the wind!

“That will be the last door to the left, and there should be some fresh fruit and sweet rolls already there. A hot meal will be up shortly.” She replied smoothly, tucking the gold into a pouch at her waist.

“Thank you.” I said earnestly before heading back to a shockingly large room. The bed was made from fresh hay and bound well, covered in soft furs form a multitude of animals. It was heaven, and then some.

“Wow….” I breathed, running my hand across a wolf pelt. It was better than I could have hoped for, and was well worth spending all my gold. I sat down for a minute but had to stand back up again, covering my mouth to suppress a squeal of delight. Compared to the loose heap of straw in my stall at the village, it seemed to good to be true. And it’s all mine. I thought, happiness bubbling up and rolling out of my mouth in the form of laughter. 

With a huge smile I flopped back into the bed and sighed dreamily. The first of many wonders and, in time, this will be the standard. I promised myself. Life was already looking up, and there is no other direction to go but further towards the stars. A knock on the door signaled dinner and as I hopped up from the bed I caught a glimpse of the splendor of the full moon. Someday soon I will be resting my head beside yours. I silently promised, opening the door and accepting the hot soup and fresh baked bread. Someday very soon.

How wrong I was.


End file.
